


Wedding Bells

by Ya_Boi_Iggy



Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: Dysfunctional Relationships, F/M, Smut, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Threats of Violence, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-26
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-12-18 10:07:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18247664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ya_Boi_Iggy/pseuds/Ya_Boi_Iggy
Summary: Eddie Gluskin meets the woman he's been waiting for.





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> This fic takes place with Reader instead of Waylon. Follow the normal plot of the game up until Waylon meets Eddie, all that's different about the time line is that, obviously, you're a woman. The Bride Eddie's been waiting for.

You had felt sympathy for him hours prior. Mere _hours_.

He had thrown himself at the reinforced glass window that separated you and the morphogenic engine, and cried out for help. Screaming that he was being raped by the very doctors trying to rangle him into the machine. You didn't know how true those allegations were. Had the doctors been raping him? You certainly wouldn't put it past the sick fucks to assault someone in such a horrific way anymore. Or had the experiments he underwent made the dreams of his childhood he was forced to endure become so graphic and intense, he thought he had been reliving them once more?

You didn't know. Neither option was fair. And as you stared up at the intimidatingly large man from where you toppled at his feet, hands trembling at the sight of the bloodied knife in his hand, you tried to remember the sympathy you had felt for him, and what had led him down this path of violence.

Eddie was surprised for a brief moment. Of course, he knew you'd been somewhere near by. Sly minx you were, persistently avading him as he pursued you. The game of cat and mouse had been fun, and he certainly hadn't expected you to tire so soon and come slumping to his feet, but he couldn't say he was upset. The soft, feminine contours of your face would contribute beautifully to the anatomy he was going to gift you with.

The mere thought of it had his eyes trailing down over your torso, and he felt his blood buzz with electricity when his eyes honed in on something he hadn't noticed before.

Gentle swelling on your chest that had your tattered, patient clothing draping out. They heaved with every breath you took, and he had to repress a shudder as he reached down to take your arm and pull you to your feet. You whimpered when his hand came near. Poor thing, you were just as damaged and hurt by this place as he was. So much so that even the loving caress of your husband-to-be startled you. He felt nothing but empathy.

He said nothing. Simply looked, transfixed, at the rise and fall of your covered breasts. If you had come to him already equipped with the organs that would nurse his child, had you come to him with a womb for them to grow in? A soft, wet place between your legs for him to give his seed?

His heart began to pick up. Fantasies rushing back and forth through his head as excitement made his skin prickle. A woman. In every sense of the word, had finally graced his presence. 


	2. II

**"When I was a boy my mother often said to me,**

**Get married son and see how happy you will be.**

**I have looked all over but no girlie can I find,**

**Who seems to be just... Like the little girl I have in mind..."**

How many times had he sang that song now? You had lost count, but it could have easily exceeded ten. And you were sure only an hour or two had passed.

The chair you were stationed in creaked every time you so much as inhaled too deeply, and every little sound attracted _his_ attention. It was unnerving. Watching a man flutter around a room soaked ceiling to floor in blood, old and fresh, cleaning away dismembered body parts as if he were merely spring cleaning. He said he was doing it for you.

That you were the one. He was sure of it.

He wanted to make a good home for you.

How he could do that, you had no clue. Surely, he hadn't forgotten what lurked just outside of every door. A simple walk down the corridor posed the threat of death. A man the size of a hulking bear, hell bent on irradicating each and every possible host for the Walrider lying in wait to tear you limb from limb. A cannibal, who had no motives other than the hunger for human flesh. The common Variant, each as deranged and willing to kill as the other. No home could be made in a place like this. But you kept your mouth shut.

Eddie had proven not to be an immediate threat, so long as you kept yourself in line. And although the lingering memory of the pictures you'd seen of the victims he'd accumulated prior to being admitted to Mount Massive, as well as the fresh bodies that had littered his workshop, continued to hang around in the recesses of your brain; you opted for hoping that his treatment had done something inside his head that stopped his prejudice against women. Whether it was fixing it, or just maddening him to the point of believing he was rid of these violent thoughts, you didn't care.

"Darling," he sang, voice dripping with tainted honey, "what do you think?"

He gave a grand gesture to the room that had, for the most part, been scrubbed clean. Blood stains still soaked the floor boards, you doubted they would ever come out. And simple hot water had done nothing to clear the smell of decaying flesh, even if it didn't assault your nose as strongly as it had. There wasn't a single glimpse of dead flesh to be had in the room, and the table that had the electric buzz-saw mounted at the foot had been shoved into a corner.

You cleared your throat, voice strained, "it's perfect. Thank you."

He beemed, pleased with your response and set his gloved hands on his hips, taking another once-over of the room for himself.

"It'll look better once it has been decorated," he nods, "I'll find some spare material to sew up some curtains, and maybe even a rug! Pull up some of those old gurneys so we have a place to sleep together."

You watched with cautious eyes as he continued to chatter about decorations he could possibly add to the room, until suddenly, a yawn split the seam of your lips. Eddie noticed it, and chuckled.

"Aw, is my little Bride-To-Be tired?" he cooed, and you'd have found his teasing tone endearing if the situation had been different. Your body went rigid as he neared you again, and you tried not to let on just how mortified you were by him touching you as he gently hoisted you into his strong arms.

"It's only natural, you've had quite the day. Finding your way here, and sitting oh so patiently for me while I cleaned," he purred, seeming positively giddy. You hoped, for your own sake, that this wasn't just the thrill of a new catch making him so excited. That this elated kindness wouldn't fade when the adrenaline of a new victim vanished. Your fear of a bloody and violent death, like the men that came before you, made the prospect of staying with Eddie for as long he behaved like this seem the easy way out.

He set you down atop a table when he emerged into another room. This one larger than the other, and filled to the brim with dummies dressed in hand-made bridal gowns, and scribbles on the wall of the perfect family life. Wadding up a cluster of fabric for a pillow, he laid you down. And a cold jolt of alarm shot down your spine as you felt scarred lips connect to your forehead and linger.

"Mm... Your hair smells divine."

Your eyes squeezed shut, breathing picking up once more into a fearful, shallow pant. Yet, after a shaky inhale, he pulled away suddenly, adjusting his waistcoat.

"Goodnight," he stated curtly, and after a few long strides to the door, he was gone. You sat up to watch him leave, heart pounding as your eyes slid to the cracked and dirty window stationed opposite you. Moonlight was filtering through the fogged glass, giving the room an eerie glow. You knew sleep would be hard to come by tonight, no matter how tired you were. 


	3. III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Filler bc I can't take this fic the way I want it too so soon without it being rushed.

You awoke the next morning, dazed. Your back was stiff from lying on something so rigid, and when you moved, your body groaned its discomfort. Eddie was nowhere to be seen, and as you slid off the tabletop and focused your hearing, you still found no sign of him.

Your heart prickled.

Anxiety began to drag like thick sludge through your being as thought after thought raced through your head. Should you run? Make a break for an exit? Or should you be worried? Eddie was the least hostile person you'd ran into since the security powered down, and you got away from the engine room. If he had gone missing, or God forbid killed by another, more violent, patient. It didn't bare thinking about what that meant for you.

Panic began to set in, and you opted for nervously pacing your way into the room he had so graciously scrubbed clean last night.

"Eddie?" You called out, voice taking a clearly nervous, high edge to it, "Eddie!"

No response. Tears bubbled in your eyes.

You wanted out. Of course you did, this place was an absolute hell hole, and you were sure you still hadn't seen the worst of it. But in terms of security, safety, protection, he was likely your best shot right now. The thought of being alone once more, left to fight for your life against another unknown horror had you recuded to violent sobbing faster than you'd have appreciated.

"Darling?" A soft voice came from the opposite doorway, and your head shot up. There he was, bundles of recycled shirts and fabric in his arms, and a look of gentle concern on his face, "my love, what's the matter?"

Relief flooded over you in waves, and, quick to try and eradicate any evidence of emotion from your face, you rubbed at your eyes. When you didn't give him an answer, he set his newly accumulated material aside and approached. Deceivingly careful fingers brushed stray hair from your face.

"Talk to me. I can't know what's wrong if you say nothing."

You chanced a look up at his close face. From behind the angry red blistering and scarring the morphogenic engine had left him with, he was handsome. The one blue iris he donned that hadn't been lost to the infection in his eyes was pale, the crystalline kind of ocean blue in romance novels. His jaw was strong. Hair immaculately cut, and slicked back. He was gorgeous. No doubt another point in his favour that aided him in earning the trust of the women he murdered.

Your stomach turned in remembrance of that detail. Eddie was dangerous. Eddie posed a threat. Sure, he was nice enough to you now, but he was likely very nice to the women he had killed prior to be admitted to Mount Massive in order to lure them in. It could all be part of an act.

"Darling, I won't ask again."

Your focus snapped back into the room, from your wandering thoughts. He looked angry now. Brows furrowed, a deep scowl set onto his pale face. You were quick to calm him.

"I-I was scared, I didn't know where you'd gone."

The tension melted off of him immediately. A smile blossomed on his face, and he pulled you into a soft kiss you didn't have the time to duck from. His lips were warm.

"Oh, dear. You really are such a little diamond," he sighed dreamily, before turning away and gesturing to the abandoned fabric on the table, "I was out gathering the materials I'd need for your gown, my love!"

Gown?

"I apologise, I should have told you before I left. I'm the man of this family, I'm supposed to protect you, not make you cry."

_Family?_

"It's rather a shame, though. With no boutique close by to buy from, we have to break the age old tradition of not letting the Groom see the dress before the wedding."

_**Wedding.** _

It clicked in your head, then. And suddenly, you felt your heart drop. The Groom. The name he had been given by other variants who knew of his existence, his language, the things he called you, why hadn't it sank in earlier? He had you now. And you were to be his Bride.


End file.
